Courtesy of Syracuse UniversityDick Clarke in the mid-1980s, with one of the early groups of students from the S.I. New house School of Public Communications that traveled annually to visit with Clark in California. Larry Martin, an administrator who helped coordinate the program, is second from right.

Dan Kaplow saw no point in wasting time. A few hours after his 1987 graduation from Syracuse University, Kaplow and a friend climbed into a battered Nissan and pointed the car toward California. Kaplow "wanted to get into the movies and didn’t know anything about it," he said, but he had one longshot hope:

"He just seemed very sincere and very approachable," said Kaplow, who’d met Clark earlier that year, when Kaplow traveled to Burbank with a group of students from the S.I. Newhouse School of Public Communications. They were introduced to many prominent alumni, including Clark, a 1951 SU graduate who died Wednesday, at 82.

The idea for the Newhouse trip came from the late Gil Cates, a Syracuse alumnus who — as a producer — had breathed new life into the Academy Awards. It was Cates who suggested the annual journey by Newhouse students, creating a chance for face-to-face meetings with SU graduates in positions of influence.

Larry Martin, now an SU associate vice president, was asked to put the trip together. He began writing to Hollywood luminaries with Syracuse roots. While Martin had yet to meet Clark, the longtime host of "American Bandstand" fired off a fast response to Martin's letter:

"He immediately said, 'Bring 'em,' " Martin recalls.

Twenty-eight years later, it might be hard to fully appreciate the magnitude of that gesture. Clark, in the 1980s, was an entertainment giant. He produced or appeared on many shows. Millions of youths associated New Year’s Eve with Clark’s extravaganza from Times Square.

Martin would have been thrilled if Clark made the time for a few handshakes. Instead, Clark brought the SU students into his office and spent hours with them. That remained an annual tradition until 2004, when Clark endured a debilitating stroke.

"He was very charismatic, very passionate, and you could totally see he loved the industry," said Mitchell Messinger, who was part of the student group in 1993 and is now director of publicity for ABC Entertainment.

"I modeled myself after what I saw, the professionalism and the concern and how kind he was to us," said Debra Gussin, a songwriter and longtime Hollywood producer who helped launch the National Geographic Channel. "He was so kind, even to people he might never see again."

Clark was also a shrewd businessman, said Gussin, part of the first SU excursion in 1984. Her point was echoed by Martin, who estimates he met Clark at least 30 times over the years. Martin recalled how Clark would speak frankly about the importance of protecting his image as an ageless television showman.

Hollywood can be cruel, Clark would tell his visitors. The aging celebrity who walks away from the spotlight might never get another chance. "He used to say, ‘I have to keep busy, I have to keep going, or people will start asking if Dick Clark is still alive,’ " Martin said.

He described Clark as the rare individual who — rather than being intimidated by a camera — seemed to become fully alive once he went on the air.

In other words, the gracious and smiling persona we saw on television was no act.

"I think that’s why the stroke was especially terrible for him," Martin said. "His whole life had been built around communicating. When the camera came on, he was a natural. And to lose that ability was devastating."

Clark also believed in humility, Martin said. He always made time for the students, and he routinely promised that he’d help them if he could. Dan Kaplow, newly graduated and lacking any Hollywood connections, soon discovered Clark meant what he said.

In 1987, hours after making the long drive to California, Kaplow called Clark’s office and asked for an appointment. He was stunned when Clark immediately set one up. Kaplow walked in wearing a suit. Clark asked if he had other clothes. When Kaplow said he had a pair of shorts in his car, Clark said:

"I’ll give you $40 if you wash my car."

Kaplow took off the suit, put on the shorts and got busy with Clark’s Jaguar. He spent hours making sure he’d cleaned every spot. Clark came outside, examined the car and told Kaplow:

"You’re now the assistant talent coordinator for American Bandstand."

It had been a test. The new job gave Kaplow a foothold in the business, and he went on to become a successful producer. He doesn’t know if that would have happened without Dick Clark, who figured a kid humble enough to get some dirt on his hands was a kid with a chance to make it in Hollywood.